Chapter 55

With his damped eyes, Toren hurriedly called for his butler to ask for help and companionship. He was immediately served with chamomile tea and received herbal treatment to appease his heating condition.

When things calmed down, the butler asked for his condition.

Instead of answering the question, he asked, "What happened while I was asleep yesterday and earlier?"

The butler sighed and slowly explained. "Since you have been quarantined and isolated from your surroundings and weren't updated, I shall inform you of the most significant things. The ministers and counselors have left to the south, while the colonists have already conquered the whole nation. Troops were deployed at the untouched areas and the mandates are soon to be implemented. The emperor wanted to keep everything away from you so you could focus on painting his pictures and materializing his legacy. I advise you to do the same."

Toren put down his cup and breathed heavily.

That night, he listened to everything.

The full details of what happened including the war advancement, colonialisms, worldwide crisis, repatriations, damages, and other things – which mostly are horrible.

It felt like his ears were getting grated and peeled, bleeding and hurting, yet he listened silently anyway.

Things are getting more and more difficult for the country, yet he felt no guilt.

He was neither happy nor sad.

He was indifferent. He was apathetic. He did not mind.

There was a gradual, slow bubble building up across his borders, sheltering him inside a clueless world.

"All these things have happened, yet I never knew and still, I was safe and comfortable and painting," He thought. "I have nothing to worry about, after all."

And with that, he reflected the young prince who died blissfully ignorant.

The dangers he neglected, the addiction and obsession he chased, the world circling to his comfort, everything fits in within his parameters of necessities. And he needn't move a single inch.

The next day, he stayed inside his private room at the headquarters.

He finished up his breakfast, painted random things – abstracts and items from the three dimensional world.

Even nonexistent monsters, he would bring alive through a blank sheet of canvas.

His brushes were replaced with fresher, newer ones each time he broke the other.

During a 20-minute break time, he would stare at the sky where the bright sunlight splashes itself over the middle of his room through the window.

Sometimes, the maids would stop by and check his health condition to make sure he was alright.

The herbs were effective and the medical practices were a bit more painless than what was taught during his training with the secret organization underground.

At lunch, he would revel at the dishes that were made by a royal chef for pioneer tasting while relishing a lighthearted conversation with his stoic and quiet personal butler.

Toren would then soon return to his canvas and would paint hundreds and thousands of pictures every week.

He had decided to neglect the prayer meetings and stuck to provide service to the emperor at the rarest times.

The emperor was always busy, so Toren made sure he would be available every time.

They made more promises and agreements in terms of business as his art distribution extends to different parts of the world with his help.